


Of Tentacles and Tantrums

by da_petty



Series: The Amorous Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dream Sex, Fluff and Crack, Frottage, M/M, Public Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Silly, Situational Humiliation, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 21:15:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16026107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/da_petty/pseuds/da_petty
Summary: John and Sherlock are on a stakeout...that's not the only thing that Sherlock's on.





	Of Tentacles and Tantrums

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. Another silly story. One day I'll write the great American novel. Today is not that day.
> 
> If you like it, some Kudos wouldn't go amiss. :D 
> 
> Almost forgot! Unbeta'd. Not Brit picked. Any mistakes are all on me.

John was having the strangest dream. He could feel something lightly brushing over his cheeks and lips. It felt quite nice, actually, so he snuggled deeper under the duvet with a contented sigh and slept on.

The sensation of being touched lingered briefly at his lips and then continued on to his nipples, paying extra attention, it seemed, to the right one. Just when it was becoming almost too sensitive to bear, it moved down over his stomach, coming to rest directly on his cock which had become interested in the proceedings somewhere around the nipple play.

John’s hand moved to press against his cock automatically, stroking himself a few times before slipping his hand into trousers and pants. Trying to relieve some of the building pressure, John tightened his grip on his cock. He squeezed and stroked himself and felt the…whatever it was; thing? Dancing around his cock again over his trousers. 

’What was that? Tentacles? Meh. They seem all the rage right now. Let’s see what all the fuss is about,’ John thought.

Deciding that he wanted to feel that touch against his skin, John unzipped his trousers and with his free hand, pushed his pants down far enough to expose his cock, tucking the waistband neatly under his balls to keep them from riding up and snapping back on him. Painful. He knew that from experience. That was very painful. 

John settled in, ‘Much better…’

There was a warm breeze moving over the head of his cock now, followed by more teasing by…what was that? ‘And where the hell did my duvet go?’ He thought. 

John reached up with his other hand and touched the mystery object that had slowly worked him into a fever pitch. And found…strings? Ropes? The texture was…odd. He couldn’t figure out what it was but he knew what it wasn’t; human.

As is the way with dreams, John just shrugged this off and allowed the stroking to continue until he felt the cool touch of the, for lack of a better word, 'thing', wrapping itself around his cock. It felt weird but good and John moaned as it tightened and began sinuously stroking his shaft.

Hips rising up into the air, John felt something hard graze his slit. There was no rhyme or rhythm to the stroking. It just dragged across the head randomly; never managing to stay in one place long enough to allow John to come. In fact, he was actually becoming frustrated and on the verge of waking up completely.

John reached up again, grasped the…thing…and pulled it down against himself with a sharp tug which was immediately followed by the force of a body - seemingly made up of only sharp elbows and boney knees - landing on top of him. 

“What the hell, John!” Sherlock sputtered.

“Huh?” John asked groggily.

“I know that stakeouts aren’t the most exciting thing but you actually fell asleep!” Sherlock exclaimed indignantly, following up with;

“And why is your penis out?!”

Ok, now John was awake, alert, and aware of Sherlock grinding his hips against John’s now raging hard on.

“If you’d stop humping me, I’d appreciate it.” John said, scrambling to tuck his cock away and do up his trousers. Jesus, could this night become any more embarrassing? Yes. Apparently it could. 

Pausing mid-tuck, John asked, “Uh…Sherlock?”

“Yes, John?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that your cock seems to be hard.” John said, blushing a lovely shade of pink.

Sherlock rolled his hips back and forth against John’s erection.

“So it would seem. Problem?” Sherlock asked, reaching for his own zipper.

“Wait! What…what are you doing?” John asked, a slight note of panic creeping into his voice.

“Freeing my penis, obviously. The teeth of the zipper is causing some unnecessary discomfort…for both of us, I’d imagine.”

“Ok. While I agree that that’s true…”

“Why wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t think having your naked cock against my naked cock would be more comfortable.”

Sherlock stopped fiddling with his zipper, gave John a look that seemed to imply that he was an idiot, finished unzipping his trousers and was now in the act of pulling his cock through the opening in the front of his pants.

“Ah. Much better,” Sherlock said, sliding his hot, silky cock against John’s equally hot, silky cock.

“That’s certainly a matter of opinion,” John said, throwing his head back in disgust against the firm wooden planks of the bench he’d apparently fallen asleep on. Wait…

“We’re in public! We’re in public with our cocks hanging out like a couple of perverts on the make! Get up!”

“I’m already up, John.”

“Oh. Hah hah! Put that thing away.” John said, looking at Sherlock’s crotch pointedly.

“My god! You didn’t even pull your pants down to do this?! You just slipped your cock out like some random tosser looking for a quick shag?!”

“I have no need to expose any more of my genitals than I plan to use for this activity. This is working quite nicely. Except for the part where you keep droning on and on with your false sense of modesty.”

“False modesty?!” John sputtered.

“No one can see us, John. We’re in a gazebo. It’s the middle of the night, with no one around for miles. Although your voice is certainly doing an excellent job of carrying so I’ve no idea how much longer that will remain true.”

“Why are we on a bloody stakeout in the middle of a meadow if no one else is going to be around to spy on? Hmm?”

John took a moment to note that Sherlock now seemed to have progressed to rhythmically frotting against his cock in long gliding strokes, followed by short, hard thrusts. And why the hell was he thinking about his technique instead of stopping Sherlock? He was just distracted and who wouldn’t be? In the middle of nowhere, cocks out, rubbing against one another…

John moaned as he thrust up to meet Sherlock’s hips with his own.

“Fuck it! I’ll worry about the details tomorrow.”

“That’s the spirit! Now, shut up and take it like a man.”

Once John had decided to throw caution to the wind, the rutting became more abandoned, John’s concerns retreating then melting away completely.

Both moaned as they continued rubbing against each other for what seemed to be quite some time. John pulled Sherlock’s head down to his and ran his tongue around those sinful lips, plunging inside, fucking his mouth in time with their frantic motions.

“Sherlock,” John whispered into Sherlock’s ear.

“Yes, my darling John?” Sherlock whispered back.

“I’m going to come,” and then he bit Sherlock’s earlobe while pressing up against him simultaneously. 

Sherlock groaned, “Do it! Come now! Oh god, that’s it. I’m coming!”

Pressing their hips together as tightly as they could, they both came, one after the other. After all the panting and “Oh gods!” were done, all that could be heard were crickets and nightbirds. They lay against each other, sated.

“That was…” John got out on a sigh.

“Yes. It was. And you were very brave to do this out in the open.”

John huffed a laugh, “Brave? I had no part in the decision making. Once you got my cock hard, I stopped thinking altogether.”

“That’s good. I was counting on that.” Although it was dark, John could just make out Sherlock’s self-satisfied smirk.

“Sherlock?”

“Yes, dear John?”

“There wasn’t really a case out here in the middle of nowhere, was there.” John’s comment was more of a statement of fact than anything else. He’d been played and he knew it.

“No. There was a case,” Sherlock assured him as he began to get up and clean them off.

“Oh really? It definitely wasn’t for the reason that you gave me.”

“Well, no. You’d mentioned this fantasy of having sex out in the open (again) and I had it all planned but then you fell asleep which was incredibly rude.”

“You have my insincere apologies.”

“So I decided to use my time waiting for you to awaken, to look around with the binoculars. The next thing I knew, you were grabbing the strap around my neck and pulling me down onto the bench against you.”

“Funny. You acted so surprised that I had my cock out.”

“That was only due to the fact that you’d begun writhing around, moaning my name and once you’d unzipped your trousers, well, I’m only human, John,” Sherlock said somewhat chastely. 

“You’re not that good of a liar, Sherlock. You purposely worked me up by dragging that strap up and down my body.”

“I was tired of waiting. Plus, in between yelling my name, you kept saying something about ‘tentacles’ and that caused my…curiosity to rise.”

“Tentacles? God! That dream again?”

“Yes. Again. Now zip up so that we can get out of here. I’m certain that I just saw lights flashing from the road.”

“The police? What the hell, Sherlock? I don’t want to get caught by the cops again. I’m a 47 year old man, for chrissakes! Not some teen without self-control trying to get off every chance he gets!” 

John had stood up by now and was angrily tucking his shirt back into his pants. He’d just taken a breath to continue his rant when Sherlock leaned over, grabbed him round the waist, pulled him close and kissed him into silence.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know, John.”

Sliding his hand down John’s shirt until he reached his now clothed penis, Sherlock cupped him and said in a breathy voice, “Did you really hate it that much? Truly? If you did, I apologize and it will never happen again.” Then he pressed his hand more firmly against John’s clearly interested cock and began kissing his neck, his nose, his lips…

“You can’t manipulate me like this,” John groaned, pressing his cock against Sherlock’s palm.

“Your lips say no but your cock is telling me that it’s thoroughly enjoying being manipulated.” 

John could feel Sherlock smile against his lips and he new that he was lost.

“Fine. Fine. Just…could you ask me first next time?”

“And ruin the surprise?” Sherlock said, nipping at John’s neck.

“You’ll be the death of me yet, my mad genius. Now let’s get out of here before the cops…” A bright light suddenly glanced first over John’s face, then Sherlock’s. Shielding his eyes, John saw that the torch was attached to an officer.

“Evening gents. Oh! Sherlock! How’s the family? This is becoming a habit, I see. Give us a heads up next time and we’ll keep clear of whatever area you want to use to, ah...meet,” the officer said without sarcasm, walking up to stand next to them in the gazebo.

“Thank you, but we won’t be doing this again,” John said irritably. 

Sherlock, still very much holding onto John in an intimate way, said, “Will do, constable,” and then winked at the officer. John began trying to remove himself from Sherlock’s seemingly iron grip. ‘He’s unnaturally strong,’ John thought, ‘for someone who never eats and lays about on the couch all day.’

“Right, well, I guess I’ll be off then. Can I give you two a lift?”

“That won’t be necessary,” John said, annoyed that this man wouldn’t leave.

“Ah,” the constable said, looking down to where Sherlock firmly cupped John’s cock, “I see,” and he smiled.

“You see nothing!” John exclaimed.

Tapping the side of his nose with an index finger, the constable said, “Right, right. I haven’t seen a thing tonight. Your secret’s safe with me.” With a wink at Sherlock, who winked back, the officer walked to his vehicle, got in and drove off.

“I’m so fucking humiliated and it’s your fault! And…wasn’t that the same officer from before?”

“Yes, John. I believe it was. This IS the Holmes estate, after all, and that particular constable is assigned to patrol this area at night,” Sherlock began lowering himself to his knees in front of John.

“This is Holmes property too?! What DON'T you own? Wait. Christ! What are you doing?!”

Looking up from the zipper he was currently pulling down, Sherlock stopped and said, “I would think that would be fairly obvious. I’m about to suck your cock.”

“What? No! Absolutely not! Well…maybe just the head. once or twice but that’s all!”

“Yes, John.” Sherlock sucked on John’s cock head once, twice, and then fully engulfed him down to the root.

“Oh god. You’re the devil. You’re the damned devil,” John said, grabbing Sherlock’s curls.

“Stop smiling down there too! I can tell that you’re smiling, you know! You’ve won, be graceful about it for a change.”

“Mmmm hmmm,” Sherlock hummed in reply, while continuing to slide up and down John’s cock.

“Sorry. Sorry. I, uh, left my torch. I’ll be out of your...hair in a just moment,” the constable said, glancing down at John’s hands tangled in Sherlock’s hair, his cock firmly buried in Sherlock’s mouth, and blushed.

“That’s it for me then. No more interruptions and that’s a promise. And don’t worry, this will not go down on my report. IN my report. That is, I won’t be spilling any details…uh…this is harder than I thought it…”

“Just, leave it. Go. Please!” John begged. Sherlock still had John’s cock in his mouth, not doing anything other than occasionally sucking on it as if from a bottle, fascinated by this exchange.

“Right. Right. Mum’s the word. Oh. Sorry. I probably shouldn’t have said ‘mum’ either.”

Pulling his mouth off of John’s cock, Sherlock decided to put the constable out of his misery.

“That’s alright constable, you’re just doing your job. Well, goodnight!” Then he promptly turned around and sucked John’s cock back into his mouth as if it was a strand of spaghetti.

“Ok. Goodnight…but if you ever…” the officer began.

Sherlock, whose patience was limited on a good day, popped off of John’s cock again shouted, “Just go!” 

Once the officer had finally gone, Sherlock continued leisurely sucking his cock. John mumbled, “Mortified. Fucking mortified…”

Sherlock paused and looked up at John, cock still in his mouth.

“No. Don’t stop. I’m beyond caring at this point,” John said, using Sherlock’s curls to push him back down on his cock.

Closing his eyes, he put his hands behind his head, leaned into his cupped palms with a sigh, and asked rhetorically, “What I want to know is how the police are always able to drive up without either of us hearing the motor.” 

Sherlock paused again.

“Don’t stop,” John said. “You’re happy. I hate that. And stop fucking smiling!” 

“Mmmm hmmm,” Sherlock murmured.

“We’ll discuss this ah….,” John moaned, “later. We’ll discuss this later.” John moaned again, “This had better be a stellar blowjob for all the trouble you’ve caused tonight.

“Mmmm hmmm,” Sherlock hummed.

“You’re doing it again. Stop fucking smiling!”

“Mmmm hmmm…”

“I give up!”

“Finally!” Sherlock paused long enough to reply.

“It’s rude to talk with your mouth full, Sherlock," John said, pushing his head back down on his cock.

“Mmmmmmmmm…”


End file.
